We recently went camping with some of our favorite friends. We built fires and pitched tents and rode bikes through the campsite; we slept in sleeping bags and drank cocoa and coffee in the mornings.

On one of the days, we descended into the Ape Caves with lanterns and headlamps and I taught Sawyer how to say: i be spelunkin’ like crazy. It was cold in the lava tubes, and we could see the shadows of bats, and hear the drips of water onto the rock floor. When we ascended into the light, Mount St. Helens was rising into the sky, and the air was warm.

When we got back to Portland, my hair smelled like campfire, there were sticks in my pocket, and my Tom’s were covered in ash. And now sometimes I dream about caves and places underground.